


Worlds of Glass

by Pakeha



Category: District 9 (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - District 10, Character Study, Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Refugees, mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:46:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pakeha/pseuds/Pakeha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'There is a planet that rains glass, Wikus.  Did you know that?'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worlds of Glass

“There is a planet that rains glass, Wikus. Did you know that?” Christopher’s talons traced patterns over Wikus’ head, embellishments occasionally taking the sharp tips close to the base of the man’s antennae. Wikus shivered and turned his face into Christopher’s chest, a rough sound coming from the back of his throat. 

“I saw it once, from a long ways away. It was blue, so rich my eyes could not fully grasp it.” There was wonder in Christopher’s voice, a distance in his tone. He trailed off and the silence stretched out until Wikus shifted slightly so he could lean back and catch Christopher’s eye, see where the prawn had wandered off to. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the light patter of rain which had been coming on steadily all evening beat against the meager roof of their little white tent. On the opposite side of their raised sleeping platform, all of three feet away, Oliver slept, but only just. The air was humid, a thickness to it that made it hard to breathe. It was an unfamiliar weight in the desert city. 

Christopher’s eyes slid back into focus at Wikus’ shifting, his gaze soft as he regarded his friend. The arm around Wikus’ waist tugged gently, encouraging the man to shift more into Christopher’s lap. With a dry rasp of fondness Wikus obliged. 

When he was comfortable he clicked softly in a way Christopher would understand, and the prawn resumed his gentle stroking, the tips of his talons picking at the bits of grit which stuck between Wikus’ plates as he encountered them. “It was all the particles of glass.” He continued after some time. “They hardened into beads in the atmosphere. They caught the light of the nearby sun and broke it into all that blue.”

A spark of lightning lit the tent for a brief moment, the thunder following after in a begrudging fashion, loitering after the light. Wind built up a curtain of rain and hurled it down, the sound of the deluge growing and fading in waves. 

Oliver fell out of sleep with a little churr and a tired stretch. His eyes opened and he turned blearily towards Wikus and his father. 

Wikus patted Christopher’s hip and moved to stand but the Prawn’s gentle petting turned into a clutch at his shoulder that kept him from leaving. “I will take you there one day Wikus. You will see it for yourself, this blue planet.” 

_'Of course'_ Wikus thought, humming soothingly to his friend, turning slightly and reaching out with his secondary arms to hold onto Christopher’s for a moment. It was his choice to ignore the way they gripped too hard to be comfortable. When he tried to stand again Christopher let him up, their hands slipping apart. 

After a moment the larger prawn got to his feet as well. 

“We can bathe in the rain, Father?” Oliver’s voice was sleep scratchy and his eyes a bit heavy. He perked up as the sound of rain grew louder, his antennae twitching as he listened.

With a nod from Christopher the child was scrambling to get out, unlatching the front flap and slipping out into the gale. 

Neither Wikus nor Christopher could stand straight in the tent, Christopher nearly bent double when he was on his feet in the shelter. He rested a hand behind him on the white fabric and picked at it in distaste as he gestured for Wikus to go ahead of him in. Lightning struck again, nearer and brighter, and the thunder was quicker to follow. 

Outside most of the other prawns in District 10 had likewise moved to stand in front of their tents, letting the raindrops beat down on their carapaces and take away the dust which never seemed to leave them. There were showers in this new District; hygiene centers which any prawn with proper registration could use. It was an improvement to be sure, but two minutes under a tepid shower head was hardly satisfying. As the skies poured, a tension seemed to ebb from the District. No one relaxed, but the anxiety of heat and grit and dry was softened in the rain. 

Wikus let some water collect in his hands and he threw it at his face, trying not to jump when another bolt of lightning struck, then another. Many faces turned to the south to watch the electricity wreak its havoc, beautiful in its destruction. Absently Wikus continued to cup water and splash it over himself, spots leaping into his already poor vision as his mismatched eyes stayed trained on the light show. Thunder was a near constant rumble, building and softening but never really going away. Each peal blended into the next, becoming so much white noise. 

Oliver ran around Wikus’ legs once before darting away to jump into one of the rapidly forming puddles between the raised platforms on which the tents were built. These dirt streets would run like rivers soon, nothing to stop the rain as it gathered and flowed down hill, making a muddy lake at the foot of the District where bad bugs would swarm and garbage would gather and rot. Now it was just good rain water though, a little sour from the smog, but good. Wikus smiled as he watched Oliver play. 

Christopher’s hand settled low on his back and Wikus hummed softly, a sound that was lost to the storm. 

“I will take you there some day, Wikus.” Christopher churred softly in Wikus’ ear. 

The storm seemed to mute itself as Wikus stilled his washing motions. “I will take you to see this planet of glass, this world of blue - like the flowers you make for Oliver. Like those bits of metal you save, the scraps of fabric. All of the blue.”

Wikus hummed and the sound was small but he knew Christopher felt the vibration as he wrapped his arms around Wikus and drew him back against his chest. “I will find a way to capture a bit of this glass - a gemstone for you to add to your box of treasures.”

 _'I know.'_ Wikus thought to himself, putting his disfigured hand on top of Christopher’s, threading what fingers he had left with the larger prawn’s. 

The stood like that for long minutes, the rain striking them and rolling down their bodies. Water tracks fell from Christopher’s arms onto Wikus’ shell like they were one form to be washed clean. 

Inevitably the eye of the storm came too close for Wikus’ comfort and he called wordlessly to Oliver. The youngling hopped back up onto the tent platform without argument, reaching down to rub the mud from his legs while he had rain enough to take away the grit. With a squeeze to Christopher’s hand Wikus extricated himself from the prawn’s hold and went to help the boy clean himself up before herding him into the tent. Christopher’s presence at his back was familiar as they went dripping back into their dwelling. 

“Use our blanket to dry off before you lie down again, child.” Christopher murmured, walking awkwardly in a near crouch to pull the MNU standard issue blanket from their small collection of belongings. Oliver reached for the blanket half-heartedly but was clearly mostly back asleep. Christopher churred indulgently and rubbed his son’s plates down quickly before ushering him back onto his sleep mat, draping the child’s thin blanket over him and stroking his antennae goodnight. 

Lightning turned the tent a pale shade of blue every time it struck, casting long shadows which fell weirdly on the small walls of the tent. Wikus, still wet, took the damp blanket from Christopher and got the worst of the water off himself before passing it to his friend and settling down on their mat, facing the tent wall. 

The larger prawn grumbled as he cast the blanket aside, resigned to a chilly night without cover as he settled himself down to sleep too, tucking himself up tight against Wikus’ body, legs intertwined, one arm sneaking under the smaller Prawn’s chest so he could hold him with both. 

“I swear to you Wikus.” Christopher clicked very quietly as the lightning and thunder reached their climax, the heart of the storm seeming to hover right over their little white box. “I swear to you I will take you there someday. I will show you such wonders.”

With his eyes shut Wikus put his hand once again over Christopher’s and breathed deeply. _'It’s alright'_ He thought so fiercely he believed Christopher might even hear it. _'I’m sorry for what happened. I’m not unhappy. It’s alright.'_

“I will take care of you, Wikus.” His finger reached up to touch the jagged pale marks on Wikus’ neck but the smaller prawn grabbed his hand before it could move too far and gripped it tight. 

_'I know.'_ He tried to sigh but it just came out strangled. _'I know. Go to sleep. I’m tired.'_

A part of Wikus was frightened when Christopher got like this, but a much larger part of him understood Christophe all too well to be afraid of him.

 _'We’re alive at least.'_ He contented himself with the thought, squeezing Christopher’s hand reassuringly as the prawn shifted behind him. _'That counts for something.'_

Soon the storm was moving on, thunder and lightning growing further and further apart, the rains gradually lessening into a light patter. Familiar exhaustion gripped Wikus as he felt sleep take him. 

He dreamt of blue.

**Author's Note:**

> Although this AU in D10 with a mute Wikus is something I've been toying with for a long time, this is the first fic I've actually completed for it. My entire motivation came from a [ real planet Hubble located recently.](http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2013/11jul_cobaltblue/) Space is awesome.


End file.
